


Ketch and Release Chapter 2

by justcallmeasmodeus



Series: Ketch and Release [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:07:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: Ketch is merciless, a company man, a killing machine. Y/N is reckless, throwing caution to the wind and living life in sixth gear. Can he reign her in and keep her safe? Can she show him the beauty in emotion?





	Ketch and Release Chapter 2

Y/N shot Sam a text with the name of the hotel as she stumbled her way downstairs. Her head was pounding and all she wanted was to curl up in the back seat of the impala and sleep off the last clutches of the whiskey. She stood outside, rubbing her arms against the post storm chill while she waited, noting that there was a new valet sitting at a podium on the drive, and she couldn’t decide if she was grateful or disappointed.

The Impala roared into the drive, carrying her two knights in flannel and bringing a soft smile to her face. Sam was driving, Dean was passed out in the passenger seat, his face pressed against the glass and his mouth open slightly, his steady breathing creating a fog on the window with every exhale. She slid into the backseat, stretching out as Sam headed toward the highway.

“So, did you have fun tonight?” Sam peaked at her and she cracked one eye open to look back at him.

“Mmm.” She grunted, throwing an arm over her eyes in an effort to ease the pounding in her skull. She heard Sam chuckle, but he didn’t continue the conversation any further.

Y/N started awake when the impala shut off, sitting up so fast her surroundings began to spin. She braced herself on between the seats and willed the world to settle down.

“You okay?” Sam asked, laying a concerned hand above her own as he twisted in his seat.

“Jack is fighting back.” She closed her eyes and counted to five, and when she opened again everything was still once more. “How long was I out? What’s going on?”

“Relax Y/N/N. You were only out for ten minutes. I’m just stopping to fill up before hitting the highway. Do you want anything?”

Y/N shook her head before remembering that she had something for Sam. She reached in the pocket of her shorts and pulled out the cash she had taken from her rendezvous host on her way out.

“So what, you’re an escort now?”

“More like petty thief.” Y/N shrugged. “Two birds, one stone.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, taking the money from her. He turned and headed towards the convenience store, leaving her to cuddle up to the worn leather of the back seat and chase the whiskey sodden trail of a good dream. She was almost asleep when Sam touched her shoulder, his gentle shaking earning him a protesting groan.

“Last time, I promise Y/N/N. Here, take these.” He handed her two pills and a light blue gatorade. She swallowed them obediently before turning back into the seat. Sam covered her with a flannel, and a few moments later the engine roared to life, lulling her to sleep.

* * *

 

It was the smell that broke through her dreams first, the unmistakable thick stench of fats, grease and potato all coming together in the most iconic way. Sound followed; the crinkling of the paper bag near her ear and the soft purr of the motor harmonizing with the quiet hum of conversation from the front seat. She forced her eyes open, blinking at the sunlight streaming through the car windows. Sam, once again in the passenger seat, held a McDonald’s bag out to her, his other hand balancing two fruit and yogurt parfaits. She took the bag, sitting up slowly in the middle of the backseat.

“Two hashbrowns and an egg McMuffin.” Dean reached down and handed her a paper cup. “And a large coffee, black.”

Y/N hummed her thanks and sipped her coffee. Silence settled between them, broken by rustling food wrappers and the soft undertones of Steven Tyler crooning on the radio. Y/N looked out the window as she ate, watching the fields pass while ignoring Dean’s glances at her in the rearview mirror. Sam scrolled through his iPad, humming to himself while deflecting the tension growing on the opposite side of the car. The third time Y/N looked up and met Dean’s gaze she sighed.

“Whatcha got Sam?” She asked, turning to lean back on the window and look at him.

“Well, it sounds like we might have a werewolf case in Colorado.”

“Oh come on, don’t we get a break?” Dean sighed, leaning his head back. “We’re getting too old to be constantly running around, and we should be focusing on Lucifer.”

“We don’t have any leads on Lucifer, and if I recall you’re the one who said that we should go out and hunt while we look.”

“Besides, it’s not like we can change the lunar cycle.”

Dean glared at Y/N in the rearview, and she squinted her eyes in a silent challenge.

“Fine. Werewolves, Colorado. Go.”

Y/N let her mind wander while Sam rattled off the details of the case. They had done this a hundred times before, and they would keep doing it. Eventually the common ones became mundane, the victims and cities different but the monsters the same. The landscape outside the car slowly merged from rural to urban and back again as they passed through another small town, and Y/N wondered how many monsters were in the quaint settlement. How many were supernatural? How many weren’t? How many people would die because life was cruel, and cold, and ruthless?

“Y/N.” Dean called her name softly, concern softening his features as he stared at her in the mirror again. “We’ll be home in an hour and then we’ll leave after we restock.”

“Yeah, okay.” She shook her head to clear it.

“How are your new arrows coming along?” He knew how they were coming. He helped her in the weapons room every time she had the chance to work on them, but he was trying to keep her distracted from her mind.

“I might take them out and test them in Colorado. I think I managed to engineer them so that they’ll work, giving us a way to sneak up on a pack and take them down from 60 to 80 yards away, silently, as long as we have a clear shot.”

They kept talking until they pulled into the garage, the conversation changing from weaponry to strategy to bringing the bunker into the digital age, until the three settled into a familiar rhythm once more. Dean’s phone rang as they stepped into the kitchen, his hand shooting out to stop Sam and his bags dropping to the floor as his features changed from relaxed to concentrated.

“Alright. We’re on our way.” He ran a hand over his face as he hung up the phone. “Change of plans, Sam and I have to go meet Cas, he thinks he has a lead on Lucifer.” He opened up his bag and pulled out his suit, hanging the pieces off of his arm while he dug around for his tie.

“I’ll come too, just let me-”

“No.”

“Dean, I can hel-”

“Y/N, no.” She opened her mouth to protest again, but Dean cut her off before she had the chance. “There’s already going to be three of us there, and I don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we need to. Besides, this could pan out to be nothing, and if that’s the case I want you to have our bags ready to go to Colorado when we get back, that way we can take out this pack before the next full moon.”

“Dean! I’m not a housemaid!”

“I didn’t say that you were, I just said you’re not coming with us.” Dean straightened up with his tie in hand and tried to brush past her to change. Y/N stood in front of him, blocking his way through and forcing him to look her in the eye.

“Dean...”

He pushed past her before she could say more, leaving her to turn and look at Sam for help. Sam shrugged, walking over and resting his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but he does have a point. It would raise suspicions if too many agents showed up, so maybe you should stay here and get things ready for Colorado. You could use a break too.”

Y/N hung her head, defeated. “Yeah, sure Sam.” She picked up Dean’s abandoned bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way down the hall to the laundry room. She dropped the bags in front of the washer and headed back to her room, changing into a pair of sweats and a hoodie before heading back out to the kitchen. She was halfway through making herself something to eat when the boys walked through, their suits on and faces freshly shaven.

“We’ll call when we find out what’s going on and are on our way back.” Dean announced, refusing to acknowledge the frustration radiating off of Y/N.

“Fine.” The word was bitter in her mouth as she bit it off.

She turned to see them out, and caught Dean taking a half-step toward her from the door, a mix of emotions displayed on his face. His mouth opened and closed again, as though an apology was trying to force its way through but the wall of his stubborn pride kept it at bay.

He turned without saying anything, so she did as well, the distance between them growing with every step he took.

* * *

 

The opening notes of Highway To Hell sounded from the other side of the armory. Y/N sighed, putting down the arrow head she had been working with before jogging over to answer the call.

“Yeah Sam?”

“It was Lucifer, but he’s gone now. We’re heading back. Dean’s going to find another hunter to work the werewolf case and we’re going to try and keep up with Lucifer. He’s switched to high profile vessels, so he should be somewhat easier to track.”

“Alright, how far out are you?”

“About 45 minutes. We’ll see you when we get there.”

Sam hung up, not waiting for her answer. Y/N bit her lip, the decision weighing on her mind. If she stayed, she knew Dean wouldn’t let her help. He was determined to keep her as far from Lucifer as possible, so if that’s the case they would be following she would find her own cases to keep herself busy.

She packed up her bow, grabbed a few quivers of various arrows, picked up her favorite guns and a few boxes of ammunition, and grabbed the keys to her old Apache. She loaded up the truck, running back in to grab her pack and leave a note on her pillow for Sam or Dean to find when they finally went looking for her. She climbed in the cab of her truck, pausing a moment to drink in the feeling of coming home as she ran her hands over the soft and worn leather of the steering wheel before heading out towards the Colorado mountains to take down a pack of werewolves.

* * *

 

The bunker greeted them silently, and for a moment Dean’s mind flashed back to the crushing despair of the last six months. His heart hammered in his chest, his palms began to sweat, and panic caused his mind to kick into overdrive. Sam reached out and grabbed his shoulder, causing Dean to turn and meet his eyes.

“It’s late, we should get some sleep and start looking in the morning.” Dean grounded himself in Sam’s soft smile, finding solace in his brothers calm.

“Right.”

He walked down the halls, his footfalls echoing the entire way. He paused outside her door and looked longingly at the wood, memorizing the patterns in the grain, willing it to open on its own. It was a literal representation of the figurative wall he was building, trying his best to keep her safe this time, no matter how much it hurt him. He reached out a hand, stopping just before the cold metal of the handle bit into the warm skin of his palm. She was there, just beyond his reach, safe from the danger he attracted.

He turned and went into his own room, stripped, crawled into a cold bed, and pulled her pillow to his chest for comfort. He buried his face in it, searching for a hint of stale perfume to lead him to a restless sleep.

He found none.

* * *

 

Y/N groaned as the chorus to Drive My Car drug her kicking and screaming from sleep. She had been expecting a call while she was on the road, almost hoping for it, but none had come through. She had made it to a hotel just outside Grand Junction at 7 in the morning, and when she forced open an eye to make sure she hit the right button on her phone 8:30 glared at her from the alarm clock.

“Come back right now.” Dean’s voice was low and even.

“Good morning to you too starshine.” She croaked.

“I mean it Y/N.”

“No.”

“Then I’m coming to get you.”

“No.”

“You’re not hunting alone you ne-”

“Who are you to tell me what I need Dean? Who are you to tell me what to do at all? You want me to come home and dust the end tables and bake fresh pies for you every day? You won’t let me help with Lucifer, so what am I supposed to do there?” The room grew silent as her sharp words faded into the emptiness around her.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe.” His voice was gentle and quiet, fueling her anger.

“I’m a hunter Dean. We kill monsters and save people. We don’t get to be safe.” She hung up the phone and turned off the ringer. She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, burning tears of anger and frustration slipping out as she tried to grab a few more hours of sleep.

* * *

 

Dean had every intention of going to get her, but his phone had rung in his hand, Crowley’s name popping up on the screen. Now they were on their way to Indiana, and further from Y/N. He glanced at his phone for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes, causing Sam to groan from the passenger seat.

“Dean, if you’re going to call her, call. Y/N is more than capable of taking care of a few werewolves by herself.”

“What if-”

“She’ll be fine.”

Dean ran a hand down his face, as though he was trying to wipe the anxiety out of his mind. Hunting werewolves was safer than trying to take down Lucifer, that much he knew. He nodded his head and pushed the worry from his mind.

* * *

 Y/N checked her phone as she hiked into the woods, a backpack full of camping supplies on her back and her bow on her shoulder. She had lost service two hours ago, and it didn’t look like she would be getting it back any time soon. She turned it off to conserve the battery and slipped it into her pocket.

She had managed to narrow down the search area to twenty five miles of wooded mountains, but now there was no way to narrow down the search other than to comb through the woods one tree at a time, alone with her thoughts.

* * *

 Ketch sat in his Bentley, the jazz music playing softly in the background as the Impala drove away with the Winchesters and their angel. She hadn’t been with them this time, and he was concerned; the entire time he had been on US soil they hadn’t been separated. The elder Winchester guarded her closely, always keeping an eye on her.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the soothing music was cut by the harsh ringtone of his phone.

“Mr. Davies.”

“Mr. Ketch, shall I assume that your present mission has been completed?”

“You may.”

“And were you successful with the Winchesters?”

Ketch considered telling Davies about the girl's absence, but something told him to hold his tongue.

“I have planted a seed or two. After Lady Bevell’s actions, any sort of headway will be hard won.”

“We have faith in you Mr. Ketch. I’m sending you new coordinates to report to. We’ve detected a nest of vampires west of your current location.”

Davies hung up and Ketch waited for the coordinates to come through, forcing her face from his mind.


End file.
